Lost Keys
by AnotherJounin
Summary: A newsie we all know and love wakes up in an alley with amnesia. He doesn't remember his name, much less what happened. Read it! Two OC characters but they aren't Mary Sues!
1. Default Chapter

Pain… throbbing waves of pain coursed through him. Gingerly, he put a hand to his head and felt the lump, then passed out. When he next came to, it wasn't as bad as it had been, but he wasn't sure about trying to get up yet. He looked at his surroundings. He was lying in an alleyway, he observed, by the two buildings, one on each side, the laundry hanging between the two partially obscuring the sky. There was also the unmistakable yet always slightly different smell of alleyway. He didn't want to think about what he was lying in. Far, far overhead, the sky was a grimy shade of blue, broken by puffs of gray cloud. He groaned. Just what he needed, rain. 

It was then that he heard someone run into the alley and saw the person as they crossed into his sight line. Just a kid, a worried looking little kid, out of breath and hiding behind some boxes. Then the kid seemed to notice him and held a finger to his lips. He didn't dare acknowledge that and set off his head again, but he did blink. He wasn't about to help the kid's pursuers. To begin with it would make his head hurt. Also, he felt a familiar empathy. He'd run before and he'd stood his ground before. There was a time for each. Clearly, this kid had judged it to be the time to run.

The kid waited for about twenty minutes- or was it ten? His sense of time was foggy at best, then the kid scampered over like a monkey. _The money!_ Before he had thought it out, he had his hand over an empty leather pouch inside his shirt. Then his arm registered the pain of moving.

"I'm not gonna rob y'," the kid said reassuringly, keeping his hands where they could be seen. "Looks like someone beat me to it!" but his smile seemed to say that he wouldn't have anyway. "Look, you can hear me, can'tcha?"

He tried to get his mouth to cooperate and say 'yes', but he knew he garbled it pretty badly.

The boy looked skywards. "Won't be a fit night for man or beast," he said. "You got any people y' want me t' run for?"

Did he? He should know, he knew he should know, but names failed him. Faces, there were, faces he knew but could not name. People who would care, who would stand with him with the world falling apart. The world falling apart. There was something…something he'd forgotten there.

"Angel?" a new voice called. "Coast's clear!"

The kid turned. "Ladders! C'mere!"

They were talking, but their voices were slowly fading and then there was darkness again.

When he woke again, he was lying on something reasonably soft, but lumpy. Felt something like a bed. He opened his eyes. He was lying in a makeshift bed in a cramped little room, that looked like it had originally been a bedroom and was now a catchall for the occupants. Messy occupants and mostly useless looking junk. On a wobbly chair by the bed sat a tall, dark haired boy about his own age, playing with a knife. He stiffened. "Relax," the boy said. "Iffin I wanted y' dead, I wouldn'tve let Angel talk me int' this. An' I can't kill y' now. So y'd better tell me y' can get up and out."

In answer, he sat up. Waves of pain almost sent him back again, but with an effort of will, he swung his feet off the makeshift bed and stood unsteadily.

"Ladders?" someone called and opened the door. It was the smaller boy again.

"Angel, why don't you ever listen to me?" Ladders sighed in exasperation.

"You're awake!" Angel said, smiling at him.

"Yeah, what's it t' you kid," their visitor replied.

"Hey," Ladders said. "Show some gratitude."

"You're not going to throw him out without breakfast, are you?" Angel asked.

"What is this, a hotel?" Ladders grumbled. "Awright kid, I'll see he gets food. You go on ahead 'n get yer papes."

But the smaller boy ignored him. "What happen t' y', last night? You've got an awful big lump on yer head. Say, you from here? What's yer name?"

The first two questions he could ignore. The third was impossible. "My name?" he whispered, suddenly feeling shaky. "I…I don't know."

"What is this?" Ladders growled. "Look iffin you think-"

"He's telling the truth!" Angel interrupted, his voice oddly insistent. "We can't just throw him out!"

Ladders scowled. "Angel, wait for me on the landing," he ordered, eyes never leaving their visitor. The boy nodded and left. "Now look," Ladders said. "I b'leave y'. I might not want t', but Angel's taken yer side so I do and I ain't gonna see any harm come t' y'. 'Least not until I know if it's deserved. I wouldn't turn y' loose on the city, might upset the kid an' however much y' might have armde- aimnessh- anmesia," he concluded. "I can't leave y' here. So, y'll come with us an' help us sell our papes. We'll split, seventy/thirty, no arguin'." 

He nodded. It grated him slightly to be taking orders, but there really didn't seem to be an alternative, for now anyway. Thirty/seventy. Something told him that was grossly unfair, but there was no choice.

When they reunited with Angel on the landing, the boy was smiling. This seemed to be a usual characteristic of his; the irresistible smile and a personality that somehow had Ladders completely enthralled. "You need a name," Angel informed him quite seriously.

"What about Loser?" Ladders offered. Angel frowned at him. "Well, he lost the fight," Ladders defended his answer.

"No, no," Angel insisted. "That was just one fight. I've got the feeling he's won more than he's lost." He thought for a moment. "Keys," he said finally.

"Keys?" Ladders looked at Angel. "Why 'Keys'?"

"Because, he had them," Angel answered, looking into the newcomer's eyes. "He held keys."

Instinct, memory, he was not sure which, but something moved him to feel under his shirt. Something should be there, on a string...but it wasn't! What was it, what had he lost? A key? With a sigh, he let his hand drop. "'Keys' it is, Angel," he said.

Ladders glanced at him sharply for a moment, then spoke. "We're here."

'Here' was a distribution office of the World, crowded with boys. Young kids, five and six, boys old enough to be counted men, fighting, waiting in line, shouting, reading the headlines to friends, mouthing the words, spinning stories, trading marbles. Everything was very alive. And very noisy. Ladders and Keys took their place at the back of the line, while Angel ran off to talk to some of the newsies that were his age. Keys watched Angel for a while, then watched Ladders. The older newsie's eyes were hawk-like in their concentration, but there was an element in them that was not predatorial, but something else. Worried? It was really none of his business. The line moved slowly as it seemed every other newsie decided to stop and count his stack, but finally, they made it to the head of the line. 

"Fifty papes for us," Ladders said, tossing down the correct amount. 

"Who's the newcomer?" the manager asked.

"Keys." It felt odd to say that. His name, yet not his name and he knew it. But he did not know his own name, and until he did, it would have to do. He took his half of the stack and Ladders took the other. Then they collected Angel from his game of marbles and set off to sell.

"EXTRA, EXTRA! FIRE IN TRAIN YARDS!"

"EXTRA, EXTRA, ATTEMPT ON GOVENOR'S LIFE!"

Strident young voices competed loudly for the morning customers, each trying to outdo his neighbor.

REVIEW PLEASE!!


	2. Chapter2

"Roe! Roe!" Kite ran up the stairs of the fire escape to the roof where Brooklyn's second was pacing. He broke off his pacing instantly as he saw the other newsie approach.

"What is it, Knots?"

"'S Kite," Kite said exasperated at being mistaken for his twin yet again, then he remembered the gravity of the situation and the fact that seriousness was more often seen on Knots' face than his own. "Bronx heah t' see ya."

"Whadda those scabbahs want now," Roe wondered, but he had a sinking feeling in his gut. _No, it ain't happenin'. He kin more'n look out for hisself._

"Won't say," Kite said as they walked down the fire escape.

Bronx's representatives were big strapping lads, but Roe was no willow himself and with Kite, Knots and Malloy with him, they could more than take the representatives. "Whaddya want?" Roe snapped.

"Ain't dat friendly!" the biggest of the representatives said with a smirk and lit his much battered cigar. "Look youse. We'se got summat t' show ya." He slung a canvas sack off his shoulder and took something out of it. It was a hat, a bluish, greyish one. 

Roe felt the sinking feeling more sharply now. "So ya got a hat. Clever," he said disparagingly. "Is it for yer new brain?"

The newsie growled, but one of his cronies prodded him and his unpleasant grin spread across his face again. "Dat ain't all," the Bronx newsie said triumphantly and tossed two things on the ground. All four newsies knew what they were. The first object was a key, a heavy old-fashioned silver looking key on a bit of unbroken string. The second was a thick handled slingshot with the initials SC carved into it.

"Still don't prove nuffin," Kite maintained, folding his arms across his chest and looking threatening. His twin was not taking things so calmly though. With a snarl, Knots lunged at the biggest representative, knocked him over and they continued the fight on the ground.

"Call off yer dog!" one of the Bronx newsies shouted.

With difficulty, Malloy and Roe pried Knots off the Bronx newsie. They both looked worse for the wear.

"He'll pay for it!" the Bronx newsie shouted, wiping blood from his mouth on his sleeve. "Garn, I'll make him pay for what you done!"

For a moment, it was all Malloy and Roe could do to keep Knots from attacking, but then the aggressive newsie ceased to struggle.  Suspecting a trick, neither let go. "Whaddya want for him?" Roe asked, trying hard to keep how he felt out of his voice.

"Well, we're feelin' generous," one of the newsies said. "You gives us about a fourth, an' we'll let him go."

"A fourth?" Roe repeated. A fourth of Brooklyn land to Bronx!

"Or fifteen dollars by Friday."

_Fifteen dollars! A king's ransom! Brooklyn's treasury currently consisted of about five dollars. "Even iffin he meant summat to us, doesn't mean we've got fifteen," Roe said._

"Then a fourth," the newsie Knots had begun to bust up said. "Or else we'll land Conlon in a world of hurt an' bring him back t' Brooklyn. Bit by bit."

"Get outta heah!" Malloy shouted, then began cursing in an awkward mix of Gaelic and English. He moved towards the representatives who held their ground for a little while, then decided absence was in order and ran for their lives. Malloy did not pursue them.

Roe picked up the hat, slingshot and key.

"So what do we do now?" Kite asked quietly.

"I dunno," Roe admitted.

"We're finished," Knots said harshly.

"No we ain't," Malloy said, glaring at him.

"Malloy's right. Have a little faith, Knots," Roe said. "I'm beginnin' t' get a plan. We break him out."

"Awright. How?"

"We break him out." Roe wasn't sure how yet. "Let's talk t' Manhattan. Kite, yer with me. Malloy, Knots, hold things here."

AN: REEEVIEW!!

ANN: If the Brooklyn newsie names are similar to those in 'Promise' by Naeth, I admit, I have freely stolen them from my cousin who is currently trying to catch up on schoolwork and told me to tell any and all interested parties that 'Promise' will not be finished for quite some time.


	3. Chapter3

First: A BIIIG Thank YouJ to all who reviewed!

"Whaddya mean he ain't here?!" Watch shouted.

"I thought dat maybe you could tell me, Watch," Fists MacCarthy, leader of Bronx said angrily. "I thought youse said he couldn't even stand up wivout help. Looks like he done a little more'n dat. Don't it."

            "He can't a gone far!" Curse said, sounding desperate.

            "Dis is Spot Conlon we're talkin' about. He ain't jist any street rat," Fists said. "But you says when y' went t' Brooklyn he weren't there."

            "Iffin he was, d'ya think he'd let us get back?" Shade asked sarcastically. 

            Fists thought for a moment. "Look, somehow, he got away. Curse is right, he probably ain't gone far iffin he ain't in Brooklyn yet. So Curse, Watch, Shade, Scout and Port, yer all gonna be lookin' for him until further notice. _Try real hard not t' do anythin' too stupid."_

            Watch glared at Fists but said nothing. The aforementioned newsies did as they were bid.

            And totally unaware of this conversation…        

            Ladders, Angel and Keys had finished selling for the day and divided their money. "Look," Ladders said. "Y've got enough t' stay at a lodgin' house, Brooklyn or Bronx. Y' want Brooklyn, y' go that way. Ya want Bronx, y' go the other way."

            Keys frowned and rubbed his head. "So, which are you?" he asked, feeling confused.

            "We don't take sides," Ladders said. "We keep to ourselves and mostly they leaves us alone. We're in t' middle. Place changes hands so often, we just stays that way."

            "Ladders, can he stay with us again tonight?" Angel asked. "It doesn't cost any more for three than two."

            "Angel, I don't make a habit of takin' in strays!" Ladders said, almost snapping at the younger boy who looked down.

            "An' I don't take charity," Keys said proudly.

            "But it wouldn't be charity if I invited you, would it?" Angel asked. "And you did say that my friends can stay with us, Ladders? Keys is my friend. I want him to stay."

            "Fine," Ladders said and stalked off ahead.

            "Please say I didn't argue with him for nothin'?" Angel said, turning to Keys. In an undertone, he added. "They're looking for you."

Keys felt a wave of confusion hit him. Looking for him? Who? The faces he remembered, the friendly faces? Or…or was it the more recently remembered ones. Dark faces, hidden by shadow, voices that taunted him when the pain grew and it was all he could do to keep silent… The cold wind blew and suddenly he was back in the waking world. Angel was staring at him. "Thanks, kid," he said. Angel smiled and ran off to catch up with Ladders, running to keep up with his long strides, talking and laughing about the events of the day. Like a silent specter, Keys trailed behind and thought.

AN: This chapter was a tad short, but there will be bigger, better chapters to come! That is, if you help the author's muses and review. If not, my muses will eat…umm…eat something of value to you. They _will attempt to eat things three times their size so you have been warned!_


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